Inheritance Cycle: Maelstrom
by Veor Hrdenda
Summary: Storms do not just appear, they start with silent breezes and grow. An Aristocrat Rider, a Princess, Another Aristocrat, and a Thief. All connected. All with interwoven fates. A hundred years after the death of Galbatorix new threats arise, new heroes, and new villains. Shadow and Light conflict, the white rider faces the Dragon Thief, and it all begins in a manor, or a tavern.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. This is my first attempt at writing a story set in the Inheritance universe, this is set a hundred years after the fall of King Galbatorix, with new heroes and villains.**

 **The Character Veor is not named after me, he is not a self-insert. My account is named after an old norse word meaning storm, one of the letters was not an english letter, I used the wrong letter to replace it. It should actually be Vedr. However I think Veor sounds better so I am keeping it.**

 **Unnecessary Disclaimer: I do not own Inheritance, huge surprise there, I am not Christopher Paolini. Again huge surprise. This is already a Fanfiction site why do we put these disclaimers? We shall never know.**

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Chapter 1: Beginnings

Steel slipped through the man's body, his bearded face frozen in a look of shock, his dark hair, hanging long and wildly, his dark eyes shining with surprise, he felt death before it hit him, his mind was so cold and numb from shock of the cold metal he didn't even have time to pull out his own blade. The bearded man coughed, blood came out of his throat, his hand was still upon his own sword when he fell. Veor looked down at the man with a look of cold disgust.

"You shouldn't have threatened me. I understand that you don't like Elves, but calling me a 'Demon-bastard whose skin should be peeled off his smug face' and then forcing me into a lonely hallway to draw a sword was unwise. Really, we could have settled it over drinks, but you decided to end it this way, and so it is ended." Veor said with a sigh, his golden-brown eyes flashing with cold reason, darkness flaring in them for a second, "I suppose I'll have to hide your body now."

In truth he did not really have to hide the body, he was in a small tavern, the walls were encrusted with dirt and a the room, despite the best attempts of a small hearth was cold, snow was piled up outside, one of the only thing Veor could see through the small windows scattered throughout the tavern. He wasn't in the main room of the tavern, he and the body, were in a smaller antechamber. The room was hidden from the main room, despite this it was the main entrance and exit, the room existed at a ninety degree angle with both the doors, which were on either side of the corridor, when entering one would not instantaneously see the other door not until one turned towards the other end of the corridor. The building had a bad reputation, in all fairness the reputation was due to the fact that the town, and surrounding area was filled with villains, thieves, and cutthroats. Veor fit in perfectly, despite the fact he was an elf. In other words most of the guests wouldn't care enough to move the body themselves, let alone report it.

Veor began cleaning his blade on his dark blue tunic. The crimson red blood seemed to make strange patterns on the beautiful silver steel blade, due to angular patterns engraved upon the blade. The blade itself was reasonably long and thin, each side was razor sharp, the handle was a hand and a half in length, and lacked a pommel, the crossguard was split into two parts on either side of the blade, the upper part went straight across making a ninety-degree angle with the blade, while the lower part made a forty five degree angle with the upper part and the handle. Veor sheathed the thin blade in a decorated scabbard, iron curled around the upper scabbard in thin lines, the line grew further and further apart until they all met together at the tip of the scabbard. With an annoyed sigh, Veor leaned down, grabbing the dead man's wrists, he began to drag the man outside, the cold air bit against his skin like small needles. He would have to clear away the splotches of red blood across the ground. Trouble would be worse for him were he found, he was a magic user, were that to be noticed one of the Varda-Gramarye or worse a Shur'tugal would be sent to hunt him. Veor had always hated the Dragon Riders, but if they were after him he would not hesitate to fight them.

The Varda-Gramarye were a group of magic rulers formed by the Varden after they had taken over the Brodding Empire, they consisted originally of members of the Du Vangr Gata, however despite their ties to the Varden at one time Du Vangr Gata had split path's with the Varden. Thus were the Varda-Gramarye formed, despite the grammatically incorrect name they were still an interesting group. They name's literal translation was 'To Watch Magic' or 'Guard Magic' thus their name was actually a verb. The name's origin lay in the oaths taken by those who joined it, the first oath was 'to watch magic, and prevent its' misuse in any form'. As all oaths were taken in the ancient language, the organization became known as the 'Varda-Gramarye' some say the reason behind this was because they had been required to act long before they could figure out a real name, other's say that they didn't want to be called the Varden-Gramarye, since they were now the Broddring empire, as it would seem like they were declaring a rebellion, yet again.

The silver mark on Myrker's hand was well displayed, so that all could see it, it seemed Myrker was trying to make it obvious. The young man's muddy-brown eyes sparkled with the light of youth, his long blond hair was swept to one side of his head. Myrker's clothes were tailored and well made, his skin was pale, his teeth and nails well groomed. The man or in more honest terms boy, was clearly an aristocrat, the state of his dark clothing, and own physical features made that clear, beyond that a decorated blade hung at his belt. His clothes beyond being well tailored were designed to make clear his rank of aristocracy, his tunic was made of fine black silk, a belt of darkly colored leather was at his waist, below that were darkly colored trousers, and black leather boots that gleamed with polish. Over his tunic Myrker's wore a dark garment of a vest like nature, it too was made of expensive leather.

The sword was long and curved, it had a single handed grip, and a pommel designed like the talon of a bird, set in the center were two small diamonds, another such diamond was set at the base of the blade, above the handle which was wrapped in dark grey cloth, the crossguard was strange unsymmetrical, curving in two different directions on each side, one part curved upwards, the other downwards. The blade itself, though hidden beneath a scabbard, was made of a cold dark metal, which had been strengthened by magic.

If these alone were not enough to convince a man of his nobility, one needed simply to observe him, his stride was quick, purposeful, he moved in a way that shone with nobility. His posture was perfect, his hands clasped behind his back, his strides long and purposeful, his back held perfectly straight. The man had an air of arrogance, but still most nobles did.

If his mannerisms were not enough to convince someone, well the person could just notice the obvious fact that everyone was bowing to the man as he passed them by.

Myrker looked like mythical heroes would, well-built, perfect teeth, and intelligent eyes, a charming smile, hair that hung just over his eyes well groomed and brushed to one side.

The silver mark upon his hand was a mark of the Dragon Riders, a mark indicating the magic that was now in his blood. Of course, he had magic usage before the bonding with the dragon. He had been trained in it for many years, and was almost an expert in its usage. Myrker's steps were light on the stone floors of the fortress, the fortress was old, built by a distant descendant of his, it had stood strong for at least a hundred and fifty years, the corridors had arches rising out of the wall every couple feet, the windows two were designed with the arches, arrow slits appeared in the tower, and in any of the area's facing outwards, the fortress itself was built on a hill, the hill was rocky, erosion had torn away most of the rounded parts, turning it into a craggy spire of rock, the only attack was to head up from the bottom of the hill, on a curling path upwards, along this path it was likely you would be pummelled with arrows, and stones, without a dragon supporting your army your chances of successfully laying siege to the fortress were slim.

The fortress itself was average, it had a large at the back of the castle, the tall rounded tower had a strange sloping roof, and two large wooden oak doors, that could be locked with another just as sturdy piece of wood, two other towers were at the walls of the castle, the gatehouse was rounded, and had a portcullis forged of hardened steel, behind this was another set of sturdy oak doors. The Gatehouse was roofed by a set of teeth like battlements, as were the other towers and the walls. Each tower was armed with a ballista, and was at least two stories tall. The inside of the fortress was a stone courtyard, surrounded by a small garden.

Myrker strode into this garden, his slightly tanned skin being caught in the golden sunlight. He smiled as he entered the courtyard, a childhood dream of his had been answered. A dragon of his own, with scales of silvery-white and extremely sharp teeth. Of course the dragon was only a few days old, but at some point it would grow into a powerful fire-breathing creature. Myker had always wanted to be a rider, ever since he was a child he had admired the riders of the new world.

Soha swung her sword up, blocking a strike from her opponent's blade, she shoved back with all the force she could muster, tightening her grip on her own blade. Her dark skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, her dark brown hair was tied back, and her grey eyes were sharp with determination.

"You can do better than that Torr." She said in jest, a smug grin on her face.

Torr, her opponent, was pale with red hair, and green eyes. His clothing was similar to hers though, she wore a dark red tunic, with golden embroidery on it's sleeves, his tunic was black with silver embroidery, both wore trousers that were black in color. Beyond that Torr and Soha were around the same age, both were at least eighteen years old, and seemed to share a deep friendship.

Torr swung his blade again at Soha, who once again blocked the attack, this time however Soha used his movement to launch an attack of her own, sending Torr's legs out from under him.

Torr's back ached, he let the sword fall from his grip. He was sprawled on his back looking up at the stone ceiling, the cold stones beneath him just as dull as those above, he sat in a world of grey, then above him Soha moved back into his line of vision, he put on a grin.

"Was that really the least painful way you could come up with to defeat me?" He said, as he pushed himself off the ground.

"No, but I wasn't really aiming not to harm you." Soha said still with a smug grin on her face.

"The worst part is I can't yell at you, because you're a princess." He said with a slight smile.

"I would think the worst part is that I defeated you so easily." Soha replied, as she sheathed her sword, "How do you ever expect to join the Varda-Gramarye at this rate?"

"I was hoping my best friend would give me a free pass. Anyway, I'm better with magic than a sword." He said with a grin.

"Are you asking me to show favoritism among those recruited to the Varda-Gramarye?" Soha responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I could never betray the trust of my people in such a way."

The two burst out into laughter, joy filled the cold stone room of the royal place at Illirea. The tall room was lined with arches, and a large stain glass window sat in the center of one wall, depicting a battle between dragons, a blue dragon, Saphira, and a red dragon, Thorn, fought a dragon that was a dark grey color, while obviously the beast was supposed to be the dragon Shuriken, it was the wrong color due to the desire to allow sunlight to come through the window. The red dragon appeared often throughout the castle, in portraits, and windows, some scenes were heroic, some villainous, people often questioned its appearance being more frequent than the Blue Dragon's. Eragon knew why of course, but no one had heard from him in years.

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 **The first chapter is a bit underwhelming I know. I wanted to introduce all the characters, but wasn't sure yet what to do with them. I develop them better as time goes along. Well... I think I develop them Better as time goes along... Whatever. Enjoy, REVIEW? Please...? I for some reason am really tired right now. I'm not putting much energy into this end bit... Ok then? Great?**

 **Oh also this entire story has been written out already, I will add in end bits as time progresses.**


	2. Chapter 2: A Thief's Code

**Hello to everyone, my response to the remarks left on these things are right here, so go no further.**

 **EragonandHPFanfictionWriter: I am glad that you enjoyed the story, despite the spelling mistakes, I did go back and see them after you brought it up. I apologize in fullness for them, I am using Google Docs so I can write things up anywhere, I know it is less useful for correcting mistakes, but it serves its purpose. I did try and check this chapter for such mistakes. Let me know if I miss them. On the Topic of Research, if you refer to the name Varda-Gramarye, I am aware, I believe I mention in that chapter, that it is wrong as a name. In the ancient language Varda-Gramarye would mean 'To Watch Magic' The other option however was Varden-Gramarye, which to me was too similar to the name of the Varden from the actual story.**

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Chapter 2: A Thief's Code

Veor had hidden the body far off in the forest, he had cleaned up the blood on his way back, covering it with snow and shifting the snow around to make it, at the least less obvious. He had now begun to drink, the Tavern's ale was bitter, and was even colder than the air, still Veor had stopped caring. He travelled, he stole, and he murdered, the life he lived wasn't of the greatest quality, but still it was a life.

Veor looked down at his blade, a blade he had won through combat, a reminder of his first kill. He had been young then, no older than fifty at most. _The day was bright and sunny, a noble and him were fighting the noble hadn't stood a chance, Veor's blade then was bland, short, cheap, it still worked of course, the man who he fought was bearded, his eyes were blue, his hair was a light brown with a hint of red, he was holding the blade that now belonged to Veor. The blade's clashed once, Veor had ducked out of the way the second time, the third swing and once again the blade's clashed, this time Veor shoved back, the noble stumbled backwards, the grass was trodden underfoot. Veor rushed forwards swinging the blade at the man's neck. No metal stopped him, a strange noise sounded, and the noble breathed no more._

Veor had changed since then, at that time he had almost collapsed, now death was just an element of his life. That day had changed him, but not as much as the following years, now here he sat centuries later with no more remorse. Five hundred years old, or almost he had reckoned, perhaps older, perhaps younger, winters and springs no longer concerned him, events did.

A man in a cloak appeared in Veor's line of sight. His face was hidden by his cowl. As he saw Veor a look of surprise crossed the little of his face that could be seen, then a slow movement towards Veor began. Veor's hand fell instinctively to his sword, his thought rushed to words in the ancient language. The man sat next to Veor, and began to speak, his voice was ragged and deep, "An elf. I wouldn't expect to find one in such a place."

"Yes, well I'm here. Now what do you want."

"I have a business proposition."

Veor smiled, a smirk crossing his face, "What do you need me to do?"

Myrker's white dragon had been fed well, it had been growing for the past month, and now stood, it's head at the height of his shoulder. It had spoken little to him through their link until then.

 _Myker._

Myrker smiled, having known such an event would occur eventually. Many told stories of how Eragon the first rider of the new order had spoken to his Dragon Saphira since their bonding.

"Yes dragon?" Myrker said with some regret, _He'll need a name at some time, I know a few that fit, but still._ His thoughts snapped back into focus, the dragon had turned it's head to the side.

 _I want a name._

The subject had not been approached until then, except for Myrker's brief thoughts on it a moment before, perhaps that was the dragon's bond influencing him. Myker looked down at the small silvery-white creature, his brain was going through every name he knew of every dragon he knew, "Ohen?"

 _No._

"Eridor?" He said, another valiant name.

 _No._

A brief sigh from Myrker, and then he continued, listing every name he knew, from Hírador to Glaedr. One name however came loose it had been hiding in the back of his mind, the name worked as well.

"What about Umaroth." Myrker said, the last name he knew, _it works, Umaroth was a white dragon, just like mine, he was a noble dragon as well, a great and valiant creature that fought Galbatorix._

 _I_ am _Umaroth then._

Myrker smiled, Umaroth too appeared to be grinning. It would not be long before he headed to Illirea to meet with the Varda-Gramarye, and then he would leave to the new dragon home Du Fell Edoc'sil, TheUnconquerable Mountain. He smiled at these thoughts, first of course he needed to train his dragon a little on his own. "You've been cooped up in the castle for far too long, I think you need some exercise."

Soha smiled as she appeared from her room, she wore a dress of a crimson red, once again the sleeves had golden embroidery, her hair was now flowing free, it naturally curled often, on her head was a thin golden circlet with a clear diamond at the center. Torr had waited at her door in his usual black clothing, he had changed garments of course, but the image was the same, dark clothing embroidered with silver his own red hair however had been groomed better than before, he smiled as she appeared.

"So, how annoyed are the nobles going to be that they don't get to flirt with the heir to the throne?" Soha said with a grin, twirling in her crimson dress.

"Taking into account your current appearance I'm sure half of them will be in tears by the end of the night." Torr responded with a grin.

"Good, I'm glad you're coming, despite the wards I have up I don't think there's any spell that could protect me from the nobles' attempts to flirt." She said, putting her arm through Torr's.

"I'm just hoping your mother appreciates it." Torr said in response, the current Queen of the Broddring Empire, Soha's mother, Kalia disapproved of the young Torr, despite his rank as a noble, he was a considerably low ranking one, of course Soha didn't care, she and Torr became close friends, perhaps in part because of Soha's mother disapproving. Soha's mother had married in from a noble family, and argued for 'keeping the image of royalty' her father Ildin didn't care much for that idea of course, partially because he had never known his grandfather, and partially because the belief wasn't very similar to what Nasuada or his own parents had thought of the royal image.

"She won't, you know how she is, looking for approval from her is ridiculous." Soha responded with a little boredom in her voice, "Now how about we go to the party? I'm sure you'll feel better, actually well not sure, honestly you'll feel worse, but it will be fun for me."

Torr sighed, he then looked up at her, gave a lopsided grin, and bowed.

"Whatever you wish my lady." He said his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Veor almost choked on his drink, he then burst out laughing, after inhaling deeply he rearranged his features to be once again calm and serious, "No, really what do you want me to do?"

The man with the hood seemed to be almost offended by Veor's laughter, he paused briefly and then began speaking again, "I want you to steal a dragon egg."

"You see, I heard you say it the first time, and the second and it still sounds like a joke." Veor said, his voice was filled with confidence, he hadn't tripped over a word yet.

"I assure you I am not joking, I want you to steal a dragon egg. I know many nobles who would pay a large quantity of money to get an egg." The hooded man said, as he looked at Veor then a portion of his face became visible, a long scar cut across his right eye. His eyes themselves were an inhuman color of reddish-brown. His hair color was hard to tell with the shadow's but Veor thought the man's hair was black, or dark brown.

"Let me explain this to you, there are four places the eggs are kept, Illirea, Ellesmera, somewhere in the land of the Urgals, and lastly in Tronjheim. When they are not in those places they are guarded by either hundreds of soldiers, or at least a dozen Varda-Gramarye. The Varda-Gramarye keep at least a dozen guards at each entrance of the egg chambers in each city. There is no way past those spell casters, not unless you have a way to get rid of at least half a dozen of those Varda-Gramarye." Veor finished his sentence and sipped at the ale in front of him.

"I have a way that you might deem acceptable to deal with the Varda-Gramarye. In about a Months time there will be a great Celebration in Illirea, a celebration based around the accepting of the Varda-Gramarye recruits into the order, including their oaths to uphold peace, and fight the misuse of magics." The strange paused, briefly seemingly waiting for Veor to respond.

"I know of it yes, but that will just increase the number of Varda-Gramarye that are there." Veor responded, intrigued by the man's seemingly insane plot.

"At the palace yes, or more accurately right outside the palace, the eggs are kept far enough from the palace that you should have time to sneak in and steal at least one egg before you are discovered." The stranger replied with a surprising amount of logic.

"Even if I get there I need a distraction to draw away some of the guards." Veor responded, his voice was not as harsh though, a minor way to show he considering the man's suggestion.

"I can arrange a distraction, say a small fire and an assassination attempt on the Queen, maybe the Princess. That should draw at least three of the guards who would have been left behind to the palace, that leaves at most four."

"How did you determine the number four?"

"A captain over the six remaining guards, as the guards will be minimized, so that they can appear in more force at the ceremony. So losing three that is four."

"I have an extra distraction to deal with those inside, drawing the guards out should allow me to deal with them, at least most of them. I can get at least one egg if you can keep the Varda-Gramarye busy." Veor said, his usually icy tone was less harsh than normal, while still withdrawn it was not attacking as it usually did.

The man smiled, his mouth visible in the cold light that struck his lower face, he spoke again, "Very well, I suppose we should speak oaths in the ancient language to prevent betrayal?"

"I think it wise, I have no reasons to trust you, is there any clear reason you should trust me?" Veor responded, the ice had returned to his voice once again, his eyes flashed with cold light, and his hand moved to his chin.

A passing smile crossed the stranger's lips, "very well"

He began carefully considering his words before he finished, Veor too spoke an oath in the ancient language, he found himself considering the words though, instead of saying 'I will not harm or betray you', he said 'I will not harm or betray you, as long as our deal stands'.

Torr moved by Soha's shoulder, brushing back a loose strand of his red hair he tried to look as formal as he could, Soha seemed much more relaxed than him. Of course she was a royal, her ability to maneuver the political flooring was almost natural. She also had the advantage of being much more confident than Torr.

"You can smile Torr, no one is stopping you." Soha said her face turning towards him briefly, she still had a smug look on her face.

"If I smile I'll end up becoming the newest suitor of Princess Soha daughter of Ildin, heir to the Broddring Empire." He said his eyes shining despite the fact that there was no smile on his face.

"The newest suitor hmm? So how many do the nobles think I've had." She said jokingly.

"Don't worry I'm sure it's less than fifty, and if it isn't they've probably counted everyone you've met since you were born."

"How kind of them, I'll be sure to ask next time I run into one who doesn't hate, love or annoy me."

"Small list then, I'm not sure any of the nobles actually make it on."

"There's the young blond one, he got a dragon egg didn't he, Myrker, he has yet to fall into any of those categories, of course I'm sure if I spent more than an hour talking to him I would despise him, or he would despise me, but he seems nice enough."

"I'm so glad that I don't make the list. I was sure you knew that deep down I hate you, but it always gnawed away at me at night."

"You are my friend, I don't consider my friends to be nobles, anyway you annoy me enough as it is, I think that's reason enough to keep you off the list isn't it?"

"Good enough for now, I will miss you when I'm training under the elves or where-ever else they send me. I hope you know that."

"I know everything Torr, nothing escapes my all seeing eyes." Soha said jokingly, waving her hands for effect, "Anyways you can always use Scrying. I'm sure I'll find you in uncomfortable circumstances whenever I use Scrying to check on you."

A brief smile crossed Torr's face, "Of course I can, except I can't contact you from Du Weldenvarden."

"Then you'll just have to send letters, now let's go enjoy the party, or in your case stand stiffly in the corner."

Myrker watched amazed as Umaroth flew through the air, he moved faster than any arrow or stone, spinning and diving, eventually he landed a deer pinned beneath his legs, he ended the beast's life quickly, and then began to feast tearing into the animal's flesh with his sharp white dagger-like teeth.

"Well done, you're quite good at catching food for yourself aren't you." Myrker said watching from nearby.

 _Compared to you fleshy-ones yes. My scales are thick, my wings are light, and my teeth are only put to shame by my senses._

It was the second time Umaroth had gone hunting, the dragon had shown a great sense of self importance after its first prey had been caught, it's eyes shone like stars, and it's white scaled looked like they were made from silver, or pearls.

Another thing that had been learned from the hunts was that Umaroth had a habit of turning the hunt into a game, much like a cat it toyed with its food, making it think it had escaped only to appear again, creating panic and frenzy amongst small herds of sheep or cattle, often it would injure an animal before allowing it to escape, marking it for a future hunt.

While some might have thought of these actions as a sign of insanity or a desire to inflict pain, Myrker saw it as little more than an adaption of its battlefield instincts, much like any tactician it would create panic, and maneuver its quarry into traps or ambushes, like any great warrior it marked the beings it bested with a scar, a sign of failure. All of these things made sense to Myrker, other being argued differently though, claiming that it was sadistic or evil. Umaroth wasn't their dragon though, and little could persuade Myrker from his beliefs.

The cold wind of winter were falling slowly upon the lands where Myrker dwelled. Frost had formed at night on the windows of elaborate stained glass, and on the leaves of some tree's still, the forest was filled with pine trees, and such trees did not fade with the winter's wind or wither at the touch of frost. These were the trees that built the forest, that created a vast world of insects and lizards, of wolves and deer, a place of danger, and of beauty despite the cold air, the first snows has begun to fall, and an icy white-brown sludge covered the ground, treeswere covered in a thin layer of snow, more beautiful and clean a white than that upon the ground.

Myrker smiled as he watched over the landscape, he had travelled with Umaroth further from his own home than he had expected, he could hunt of course, as could Myrker, and Myrker could set up a small camp in which they would stay for the night, then they would once again return to the fortress on the sloping hill. "Umaroth, night will fall soon, perhaps we should prepare for it. Frost will form and snow will fall. You may be able to survive that unsheltered but I cannot. I will need to make something to keep the snow off me, and the cold away."

 _Then make your fire, I shall rest near you so that my heat will keep you warm in the cold of the night, my wings will make your tent, and we shall rest beneath the sky of cloud and stars._

"Then I will cook myself some food before the night is upon us. You go find us somewhere to camp for the night."

 _I am a dragon, I hunt, and fight. I do not 'find places to camp for the night'._

"You are also my partner. We work together, I let you hunt earlier, and I'll be there when we fight in future, but for now I need to find food, and one of us needs to find a campsite. You can fly you get an aerial view, I am bound to the earth, so please just do what I ask." Myrker replied slightly irritated.

 _Fine, but next time you shall find our campsite while I hunt._

With that final comment Umaroth launched into the fading evening sky above circling far above Myrker.

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 **I am going to be entirely honest, I enjoyed writing this story, so unless I get a large number of negative reviews, or deeply angry comments about it I'm going to keep posting the story.**

 **By the way I'm going to include character names here.**

 **Sohaila 'Soha' Princess of the Broddring Empire, Heir to the Throne.**

 **Torrthan 'Torr' Lord of Nroas (Not really his sister runs Nroas).**

 **Veor's actual name is mentioned later so I'll leave that out. So are Soha and Torr's, but theirs are brought in with no context of that being their actual name, and them calling each other by different names. Not for a while please not, but it is a thing.**

 **Another really early warning, there is a woman who appears later called Katrina, she is not the Katrina who married Roran, she is a descendant of them however.**

 **Also I tried to make it very clear when we changed perspective, or which character we were following this time. It is usually clear by the first sentence, but I was just making it very clear so people did not read it and ask 'When did "INSERTCHARACTERNAMEHERE" show up?'**


	3. Chapter 3

**So... I thank people who have read this so far, and I'm glad to be continuing this, I still would like REVIEWS, telling me how I did on the whole writing part, but ignoring that I'm getting to the questions that were asked of me...**

 **TheNerf12: To answer your first question, yes we will see some of the characters from the Original Inheritance Cycle Books, Angela will appear, as will Murtagh, Eragon, and Arya, beyond that I'm not going to say anything. On the other question... So that question is kind of loaded, you really aren't just asking 'do we know these character's parents?' you're also asking, 'Are their parents important, or some of the original characters?' I will say this on that point, we know Soha's parents, and though she is descended from Nasuada and the other character who I make really obvious she's descended from in the first chapter, she is not their daughter. Torr... well, he has a sister called Lorana, that is what you know about him, his parents do not matter though, as a part of this story it seems unimportant, Veor is 500, making him about the same age as Arya's mother would be had she survived all the way through the Inheritance Cycle. Later on there is a brief mention of both Veor's Mother and Sister being dead, but that isn't for quite a while yet, Myrker, I state I think in literally the last chapter that both his parents are dead.**

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Chapter 3: The Dragon Thief

Veor sat nervously on the back of the hay covered wagon, he was about to try and pull the greatest heist of his life, possibly of all time. He was going to try and steal a dragon egg, hopefully more than one so he could maximize the profit. He was also involved in a fake assassination attempt, and would have to murder at least one of the Varda-Gramarye. None of those were in his mind, good things to be doing. Murder or thievery he was fine with, but on the level at which he was at the entire thing would become a major issue somewhere in his future.

Soha smiled at Torr as she passed, she once again wore a crimson dress, once again embroidered with gold, the same crown with a single diamond was upon her head. However additionally Soha's hair had been braided, around her neck was a golden necklace with a strange jewel at the end, her eyes seemed to glisten in the light that was cast by the midday sun. The gates were closed, Torr stood in a row of other Varda-Gramarye, on this day most of the Varda-Gramarye were gathered to accept new recruits, like Torr, those new recruits would swear their oaths in the ancient language. The Varda-Gramarye uniform included a thin steel chest plate, thin steel shin guards, a thin steel helmet, and thin wrist guards, under this the Varda-Gramarye wore normal clothing. Torr smiled back briefly before taking a deep breath. He scanned the ranks of other armored men and women, for some reason no one else seemed as nervous as him.

Myrker felt the wind rush across his face, sweeping back his long blond hair, his muddy-brown eyes shone as the sun reflected off them. He sat on the back of Umaroth who had happily received his saddle, the two were heading to Illirea, as was usual for human riders, they headed to their capital to learn the way to Du Fell Edoc'sil. It was said to be past the edge of the world, hanging in the mists before the kingdom of the gods. Myrker was much more intelligent than that of course, he believed that it was a large mountain like any other, it sat alone though making it hard to capture.

"This is amazing."

 _Of course it is, I am doing it._

"Don't indulge your pride too much, I've heard tales that female dragons will kill those who are too prideful."

 _I've heard that humans are considered among the few intelligent races in the world, do not trust everything you hear Myrker._

"Fair enough Umaroth, but be careful, I'd like to have a living dragon, and not a dead one."

 _And I would like to have a living rider, so avoid annoying the Urgals too much._

"I am a noble, I know how to negotiate." Myrker responded angrily. Umaroth let out a snarling cough that was presumably laughter.

Veor's hand tightened on his blade, the cart had come to a stop briefly. Veor had climbed out and pulled away the supplies he needed. The others on the cart had continued towards the large open cobblestone square in front of the palace.

Before Veor one other person had gotten off, a man with dark hair, and light blue eyes, he had moved taking only a small bottle of whale oil with him. Veor new the plan, and large portions of it unnerved him, he would however go through with it, he had sworn an oath.

The gates opened and Torr walked out stiffly following those in front of him. The courtyard below was filled with on looking peasants. Inn Keepers, Farmers, Blacksmiths, and many more filled the small area. Torr stopped, he and the others stood still, they now made up a semicircle, from out of the main doors strode a number of people, many were extra Varda-Gramarye who could not be included in the elaborate semicircle, or weren't making security checks, a couple others had been sent to deal with a fire. The others were three regal figures, Soha, her more pale skinned mother, and her dark-skinned father, her mother wore a dark blue dress with golden embroidery, her face was beautiful, but age had begun to set in, her hair was a light red-brown and her eyes were blue. Soha's Father had dark hair which had begun to grey, and there were small wrinkles under his eyes. His eyes were grey like Soha's and his hair the same dark brown.

A shadow danced at the edge of Torr's vision, after a moment of focussing on it Torr soon realized it wasn't a shadow, it was a person dressed in dark clothes, he was at the back of the crowds, in his hand was a bow, he had strung an arrow, Torr swore he heard as the arrow was loosed despite the distance, leaping into action he moved to stop the arrow with his own body. The arrow moved to fast though and he couldn't reach it, instead he fell upon the ground with a clattering noise watching helplessly as the arrow struck Soha's chest.

Soha's expression became startled and then angered, the arrow had fallen to the ground bouncing harmlessly off her wards, despite that the courtyard was in panic, someone had tried to shoot the princess, and no one was dealing with it well. Torr scanned the crowd looking for the figure in dark clothing he had seen, but the man was gone. Then across the yard a cry went up "Brisingr!"

The noise was deafening, fire burnt across the courtyard, more panic started. Torr could see more Varda-Gramarye rushing in from the direction of the dragon keep. Soha had pulled a sword from somewhere, swinging it into a fighting stance she scanned the crowd once more.

The guards rushed by Veor, he smiled, looking at his own supplies he placed a smaller barrel of whale oil near the gate, he then opened it dragging it across the ground to make a line of black liquid. Looking back into the almost empty barrel, he returned it to its place, taking a barrel of the same height and placing it on the other end of the line of whale oil. In almost a whisper Veor spoke, "Brisingr."

He felt the energy drain from him as the fire appeared in the first half empty barrel. The explosion sounded clearly, smaller than the explosion in the courtyard, but loud enough to bring the guards. The two ran out looking at the thick line of whale oil, Veor smiled once more, again he spoke this time with slightly more confidence "Brisingr."

The line of oil and connecting barrel exploded, the two Varda-Gramarye were sent flying backwards. Veor waited for a second and then looked into the room, the two guards were burnt, and lay against the wall, he could hear their shallow breathing though. Another guard rushed towards Veor, this one was younger, brown haired with green eyes, he swung at Veor with a sword. Veor blocked clumsily, drained from the use of magics, he breathed in then forced the man back, swinging down at him with his own blade. Veor struck the man's shoulder with the blade, however he was unable to cut through the wards, ducking, Veor struck the man's stomach, once again unable to penetrate the man's wards. Veor cursed under his breath, the man who he was fighting had swung his sword once more at Veor, the young man however was clumsy with his sword. Veor struck the man in the leg with the bottom of the boot, and despite his wards the man fell to the floor. Once again Veor swung down finally piercing the man's words, the blade cut across the man's shoulder, a drop of blood fell from it and his clothing was torn. Veor dodged the man's second swing and struck him over the head with the bottom of the blade. The man crumpled to the floor and Veor held his blade to the man's neck, _He saw my face, the others will be able to recognize me if they hunt me, I need to kill him._ Veor stood frozen in that position for a moment, _Damn it, when did I grow a conscience._

Veor moved his blade from the man's neck, he stepped away down the hallway towards the Egg room. The last guard appeared, Veor raised an eyebrow before tossing a small jar of whale oil at him. The man easily cut in two and smiled, as the black liquid spilled across his feet and the floor around him, "I'm no fool, whoever you are you won't get past me."

Veor smiled, "I find your arrogance most amusing." Then with a sigh he spoke again, "Brisingr."

Fire consumed the man, starting from just a spark and then raging all across the man's skin. The man let out an anguished scream for a second, Veor watched as the man fell to his knees covered in red scars. Veor had paled when he spoke in the ancient language and had begun to feel ill, breathing deeply he continued into the next room, the man behind him had had the common sense to roll across the earth to put out the fire.

Veor looked around the room, nine dragon eggs sat on multiple shelves of thick stone, Veor grabbed one the dark blue color of the waves, the second was the color of blood, he took these out to the waiting wagon.

Torr had watched as one of the men had ridden away on the wagon, he looked around at the panic, looking for Soha in the crowd, he found her standing on the large stage fighting off a larger man with her sword, she was doing surprisingly well he thought, he froze for a second, waiting to see the outcome of the fight, but Soha whispered something under her breath and the man went flying backwards. Relieved Torr turned to run after the wagon. He froze looking at where the wagon was heading, _they're robbing the egg house, this is all a distraction for the theft of the dragons._ He began to yell back about this only to see that the confusion had escalated, sight lines were broken, and anyone he could hope to call was lost in the crowds.

Torr ran towards the wagon, trying to catch up with the quickly moving cart. He was too slow, sighing he changed his course, heading towards the Dragon Keep taking a short cut through the winding back alleys.

Veor entered the hall once more, looking at the display of eggs. He was trying to figure out which too take next when the young red haired fellow entered, brandishing a sword. "Step away from the eggs."

Veor smiled at the youth "Or what, you'll point at me with that weapon you've got there? Are you even a full Varda-Gramarye or are you just a recruit?"

The man glared, Veor was about to grab his own sword when the youth spoke, "Jierda Lam"

The words were rough, spoken with little knowledge but they were effective. Veor felt as pain shot through his hand, he let out a yell. "Kveykva!"

A bolt of lightning shot from his working hand into the young figure knocking him to the ground, Veor paled once again, he moved as quickly as he could ignoring how Ill he felt, and he grabbed the nearest egg, an egg of a bright green shade, he then moved towards the exit, stepping over the wounded young man, who seemed reasonably well after being hit by lightning. Veor stepped climbed onto the back of the wagon.

"Just go." He said, voice filled with anger, he looked down at the three eggs he captured, his hand rested on the blue one, it was then he noticed the blood. His hand was covered in blood and the bones were sticking out at the wrong angle. _That isn't right,_ he thought before falling unconscious on the wagon back.

Myrker looked down at Illirea, fires raged in the streets, a battle had taken place at the palace of some kind and the place was covered in debris.

Umaroth was laughing, _This is your great city? It looks like it has been through an uprising._

"It was much nicer the last time I was here." He said with a shrug, "Something happened though, something bad."

The white dragon approached the city concerned with the mass panic. It looked at the streets chaos down below it, growling it landed in a large open space. Myrker's hand went to his blade, and he looked around for the source of the destruction, standing in about the center of it was the princess Sohaila, with a glare she began to speak, "About time you got here, do we have to make an appointment to avoid assassinations or is this just a normal visit?"

Myrker froze in shock, unsure of what to say in response, Sohaila's hair was wild, there was blood on her hands and her face, and she seemed thoroughly annoyed, before Myrker could respond a man dressed in the armor of the Varda-Gramarye stepped in, "My lady, there is something you might want to see."

Torr woke dazed, the light seemed strange to him as if everything were darker, then he felt the pain rush across his body. Soha stood over him, a look of Concern and anger on her face, "Well hello there Torr, welcome back to the land of the living, care to explain what happened."

He found he was on a bed in a large room filled with beds, a bandage was wrapped around his chest, and his armor lay off to one side, a smell of burnt flesh reached his nostrils he looked around observing multiple other men and women lined up, most of them had minor injuries, three however were covered in burn marks.

"The eggs, I saw one of the assassins leaving in the middle of the fight, heading towards the eggs, I followed, I found another inside, I tried to stop him, he was an elf, dark brown hair, golden eyes, his skin was pale, he looked as if he wasn't very used to fighting though, at least not with magic his wards did nothing to stop my spell, then he threw a bolt of lightning at me, after that it's blank."

Soha glared at him, it was then he noticed the other two standing behind Soha. A blond man with muddy-brown eyes, and a man dressed in the Varda-Gramarye uniform, his helmet was removed revealing dark green eyes, and black hair, his skin was dark, but was closer to Myrker's or Torr's skin color than Soha's.

"I see, so five of the Varda-Gramarye were unable to prevent one elf from stealing three eggs." This was the man in the Varda-Gramarye uniform speaking, his tone was filled with frustration.

"The other four were unconscious or dead when I got there." He said, "I didn't check, there were more important matters at hand."

The man scowled, "I'd like you to know that you and most of the other Recruits will not be allowed into the Varda-Gramarye for showing high levels of incompetence, now I have to go find this elf, that you let escape." He spoke loudly before turning.

"That's unfair, none of this was their fault, in fact I would argue that Torr did more to stop the thief than any of your men." Soha said angrily, her grey eyes flaring with light.

"Then I'm glad it's my choice princess, and not yours, since you clearly hold biased to your friend." The captain said angrily before turning.

Myrker coughed awkwardly, "Right, I'll hunt down the dragon thief then."

The captain spun, "No, you will go to Eragon as you were supposed to before. I will go find the dragon thief and resolve this." He said promptly before walking off.

Myrker shrugged, heading off towards his dragon, a piece of paper had been pressed into his hand as he left, a small map that would lead to Eragon's new fortress of Du Fell Edoc'sil. There were supposed to be multiple copies, though due to the secretive nature of such a place Myrker wondered how they could hide it with such a large number of maps floating around.

* * *

 **Ah, Soha being angry, sarcasm.. What more could one ask from a chapter of this story? Oh, actually development, well that happened here as well I guess, Torr and Veor fought, which did not end well for either of them. Veor learned the art of the understatement... ANYWAY... Review, tell me what you liked, and if you think all the character interactions worked.**

 **So the story has a total of Twenty Five chapters, so that should be fun, I'm including the Epilogue there as well though so, maybe I shouldn't? Anyway... REVIEW, I'm stating it at both top and bottom, if you didn't like something in here tell me what, if you had advice give it to me. I need to understand what I should change...**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Breaking Orders

The cold winds bit against Myrker's face as he flew eastwards. He watched as the farmlands and forest passed below him. He pulled his dark cloak around himself, trying to generate some heat to combat the cold winter's air. Umaroth seemed slightly annoyed about their current course eastwards.

 _It's unfair._

Myrker sighed, "What's unfair?"

 _They deny us the chase, the hunt. They are not riders they will not catch the egg thief._

"Maybe, but we have our own mission. We require training, we can deal with the Varda-Gramarye in the future."

 _We had better, they are foolish to refuse our aid, it will be their downfall._

Myrker nodded, he then fastened the rope tying him to his saddle, and began to sleep.

Veor's hands were cold, winter's frost lined the wooden wagon. The hay was uncomfortable and rough, of course beneath the hay were three brightly colored massive eggs. Eggs unbreakable to common touch.

As the wagon pulled to a stop Veor pulled back the hay to check on the precious cargo. He looked over each of the eggs and then smiled. If all went well he would be rich, and then he could spend a good couple of years eating well and drinking deeply, with little thieving or murder.

The icy air made Veor's skin prickle. He returned the hay to its place, and looked up at the coach driver, a middle aged man with a deeply scarred face, the man's hair had begun to grey, the regions untouched though were the color of coal. His eyes shone the color of fern leaves. His skin was pale, and he was dressed in a dark wool garment.

"We need to stop soon, the winter storms will be upon us." The coach driver said in a barely audible tone.

Veor looked up at the greying sky, and then nodded in agreement, "Where should we prepare to hide the eggs."

The man laughed with his ragged and soar laugh, as if he had been deprived of water for some time, "You let some of those guards live, by now'll have a basic description of you out, you'll need to hide yourself in some empty farm."

"Very well, do you know of such a place?" Veor said calmly, hiding was not something foreign to him.

"There's a small farm, 'bout a mile away, cold, dark, but'll keep you protected from the storm sure enough." He said, knowingly.

"Very well, then I will take the eggs, while you prepare a meeting with our high and mighty employer." Veor said the last part sarcastically.

The man laughed once again, "You take the eggs? With what, you've only got one hand." The man said this pointing vaguely in the direction of Veor's broken hand.

"Very well then you can take me to the farm by road, and we can separate there."

The wagon driver nodded wearily, climbing back onto the front of the wagon. Veor climbed quickly onto the wagon's back, then a crack of a whip sounded sharply through the cold winter air and the wagon began to move.

Torr lay back on the minimalistic bed. His eyes were closed, lost deep in thought, his hands rested behind his head and he sighed deeply. In moments he had lost his dream, and all because of a dragon thief. If he had been smarter he would have disabled the magic user instead of just breaking his hand, and he would have had wards against lightning.

A voice cut through his thoughts, "It's been two days Torr. Now get up and stop sulking." Soha's tone was gentle, but only on the surface, if one was paying attention they would hear the steel in her voice.

"I had a goal Soha, an idea that forged me, being a Varda-Gramarye was something to strive towards, without that I'm just an idiot who can use magic." Torr responded, his usual wit was gone from his voice, leaving behind a cold empty shell.

"Come on, I miss sparring with you, watching you being beaten over and over again really brought some joy to my life." Soha said sarcastically.

"Fine, I'll get up, and then perhaps you can learn to take no for an answer, after I've beaten you." Torr responded, there was a hint of anger in his voice as he rose from the bed.

"Perhaps in some very very strange dreams, but here and now, well let's just say I've won already." Soha responded walking towards the door. She was no longer in a dress, but was once again in a dark red tunic, and black trousers. A sword hung at her side, and she wore two steel bracelets on her wrists.

"I'll see you in a couple minutes then." She spoke calmly and confidently, striding out the door and out of view.

Torr sighed as she left, grabbing his belt from the ground and strapping on his sword and scabbard. He pulled on his dark brown boots and walked out into the bitter air.

Veor sat in a pile of hay in the back of the barn with the three dragon eggs. His cloak was wrapped around him like a blanket, the hay was uncomfortable but it was better than the floor. Veor snapped into attention as he heard the barn door creak open. He grabbed his sword from next to him and say still in the darkness.

A light flashed by, it had not struck Veor as he was behind the pile of hay and concealed from the door. Softly two men began to speak.

"You really think this elf is up here? I mean, he's not that stupid, he knows he can't hide away up here successfully." The first man said, his voice was reasonably deep, but there seemed to be an underlying simplicity in his words, not in a way that indicated stupidity, more an inclination of servitude.

"If you allowed us to search we could find out couldn't we? Then your question which is a waste of words and time could have been skipped entirely." The second man said in response, the war he spoke hinted at an underlying intelligence, he was logical and precise, he spoke well, and with a sense of superiority, hinting that he was generally in charge of issues.

The two crept further into the room. Veor's mind raced, every word he knew in the ancient language rushing through his head. In a voice that was almost begging he spoke, "Atra eka íse frethyaí."

The two men passed by, and Veor felt his energies being drained as he kept up the spell. They passed again without noticing him, and were about to leave when the hay began to rustle, it was a loud brief noise, and then it stopped, the two men froze, listening for a second more before stepping back out into the cold night air. Veor breathed out as the spell faded his face was pale and he felt sick. He pulled his cloak back over him. Then once again the rustling sounded.

Veor pulled away the hay to find the blue egg rocking back and forth shifting the hay.

"Well, that's new." He said his voice half-hushed, "Pretty sure that means something is happening."

Suddenly large cracks began to form in the surface of the egg. Veor swore under his breath, letting out a curse on a thousand gods he didn't believe in.

Suddenly the loud crack sounded throughout the barn. A small creature emerged from the now broken egg. It had sharp pearl white teeth, and dark blue scales running across it, the wings of the creature were like that of a bat, it staggered blurrily out of the hay stack. Collapsing on the floor in front of Veor. It looked up at Veor turning it's head to it's side. Then stepped forwards wobbling while it did so.

Veor smiled and then cursed himself for smiling, he as the creature approached him, he for no comprehensible reason reached out his hand touching the creature's forehead, pain shot through his entire body. It felt like lightning, but beneath the immense energy was a cold he couldn't understand.

Veor looked down at the small silver mark on his hand and let out a stream of profanities.

After Torr had been thoroughly beaten by Soha for a third time she had requested he meet her at the stables that night. Torr had been a little confused by the request but agreed, Soha was a princess after all, and despite them being close friends he wouldn't refuse a request from a monarch. So he had arrived a couple hours later in the dark at the stables.

"About time you got here." Soha said with a grin.

"You weren't very specific about the time were you, you said tonight, well it is now tonight, and I'm here." Torr responded sharply.

"Fine, now let's get going." Soha replied, leading a darkly colored stallion out of one of the stalls, upon it's back was a dark leather saddle, with multiple riding bags that seemed to be filled with food.

"Going where?" Torr said, noticing that Soha was wearing different clothes, her tunic was darker and tighter to her skin, it was clearly cheaper than her usual clothing as well, despite this she still wore her crown.

Soha sighed as if the answer to Torr's question should have been obvious, "To hunt down the dragon thief, obviously. The white horse in the stall next to this one should have everything you need."

"Soha, this is insane, you're a princess, and now you want to hunt down a man who took down fully trained Varda-Gramarye, and almost killed you?" Torr's tone was serious, his eyes filled with worry.

"Yes. I'm an adult Torr, I can take care of myself, I proved that back when assassins tried to kill me, now are you coming or not?"

"How are we even going to hunt him? We have no idea where he's going."

"You mean you have no idea where he's going, I've got the same amount of knowledge on the matter as the Varda-Gramarye do. He's heading towards the spine, of course he may change course, but we've managed to plot a generally destination for him, so let's go catch a thief."

Torr sighed, "I can't persuade you otherwise can I?"

"Of course not, now we should go before someone comes to drag me back to my room." Soha said smiling mischievously.

"I will probably hang for this, but I half expected that already."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Broken Heroes

Veor sat on the back of the wagon, the skies were silent, two dragon eggs rested under a pile of hay behind him.

"The Boss won't be happy about this y'know. Losing a dragon egg is unforgivable." The wagon driver said.

"The way I see it if I hadn't allowed that egg to be taken we would have lost the other two as well." Veor said wearily.

"An' we only have your word for it." The wagon driver responded, angrily.

"You're accusing me of betraying us to the Varda-Gramarye? If anything it was you, you were nowhere near the barn, and it was your idea to stop there."

The driver fell silent, and Veor closed his eyes his head resting on the hay. He felt a passing touch in his mind, one he had grown used to in the last four days. A small presence relatively nearby to him, he reached out with his own mind to reassure the creature of its safety.

"What happened to you humans, you used to have respect for your elders." Veor said, slightly distracted.

The wagon driver laughed, "My elder, you? You're funny you are, you can't be older than, twenty one, twenty two."

"I can, and am. Much older in fact. Was there no one around to inform you the Elves don't age, I was alive before your grandfather or your grandfather's grandfather, I watched the first order of riders fall, and I watched as Galbatorix seized power. I have watched young beautiful things decay into dust, and I have cities rise and fall. You think yourself old and wise, you are a fly, you survived for a day and think you know the world, I have travelled a long and beaten path, along, filled with death and tragedy. Do not presume so quickly my age based on my face, I am ancient, and broken. So be do not tempt me to show you the great tragedies, for that puny little mind of yours would shatter." Veor said, he spoke in a way which seemed half-threat and half-insult, for every moment of it his eyes shone as if filled with fire and destruction, if one had looked into them they may have been lost in his grief and tragedy.

The wagon driver fell into a deep silence, filled with a cold dark fear.

Umaroth has landed in a large clearing, Myrker built a fire at the center of the clearing, using his magic to light it. The two were further eastwards and the cold winter's winds had died down, they had passed over the Hadrac Desert as quickly as they could, but had faced some small sandstorms and troubles, after crossing it at their quickest pace they had landed at the edge of the explored world, an uncrossed invisible boundary separating two parts of the world. Myrker looked over the small map with strange instructions. He sighed, and then leaned backwards.

 _You are afraid?_

"No Umaroth, I am not afraid, I am annoyed. The riders have such potential to do great things, but Eragon is holding them, us, back. We could bring around an age of Justice and peace unlike anything that has been seen before, but we spend so long training, and so little doing something."

 _How would you solve this problem? Is it as easy as you think it to be, the age of the Riders was ended by Galbatorix, perhaps the second age will come when once again there are enough riders to rebuild the world._

"Who could stand against a rider? Perhaps the combined might of the Varda-Gramarye, but there are enough riders to deal with them. A change could help the world so much, all Eragon has to do is allow himself to see it."

 _Maybe, but how many would stand with you? And how many would think of you as a new Galbatorix?_

"Does it matter? We would be able to deal with anyone who fought us, easily as well." Myrker said sharply, his anger clear in his voice.

 _Perhaps we should speak of this at another time._

"Perhaps."

Myrker fell silent, and an unsettling cold filled the night. Myrker lay back against Umaroth's side, allowing sleep to take him.

Torr and Soha had been riding for a number of days, Soha had hidden her crown in a small bag that hung at her side at all times, and Torr had changed into less expensive clothing. They had tracked the elf they were hunting to a small barn, they had predicted he stopped at, despite the Varda-Gramarye's initial search hinting otherwise.

The barn door creaked open as Torr stepped inside, the place seemed empty, but as he scanned the room he noticed that there were indentations in the hay. Soha pulled the barn door open wider, and stepped in.

"Someone's definitely been here." Torr said in a half-whisper.

"I can agree with that." Soha said, stepping further into the room. Torr looked across the floor and began to notice small fragments of something dark blue. Torr knelt down, examining the fragments before lifting one from the ground. In a half-whisper he began to speak, "This is a dragon egg, the blue egg they stole to be precise."

"They shattered an egg?" Soha said, kneeling beside Torr. Her eyes scanned the number of fragments scattered across the floor, "Is that even possible?"

"Not by regular means, and not in this case, this egg hatched, and if that thief or anyone else has a Dragon, then gods save us all." Torr said picking up the fragment of the shell.

"Where would he head? If he has a dragon." Soha spoke hesitantly, scanning the barn for clues.

"Away from here, I think we should follow his path as far as we can, when we lose him well, when we lose him, we might as well have lost a war." Torr said this in a hushed tone, and suddenly both Soha and Torr felt the cold to its fullest extent.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: The Twisting Path

Veor and the wagon driver had travelled further and further from Illirea towards the Spine, and the Palencar valley. They had travelled for about a month, the cold had only grown worse as they travelled, storms became more and more frequent. Finally they had reached their rendezvous, a small tavern hidden deep within a forest, the building was made of cold grey cobblestone, and spruce wood, a small chimney rose from the roof constructed of wood and hay, snow plastered the sides of the building, and the small glass windows barely let any light through, as Veor stepped inside he found himself reminded of the tavern in which all his troubled had begun. After a month Veor had grown quite used to the passing thoughts at the edge of his conscious mind.

The true issue he found lay within the sense of ominous stillness of the world around him. Veor had observed history, sometimes from afar and sometimes by being involved, he could feel the patterns within it. He had found that history acted like a storm, there was a long silent tension, then the thunder in the distance, and then within moments one was trapped within waves of destruction, lightning and rain would come down, and then once again there would be silence, the calm of the eye, before once again the plunge back into insanity.

This was a moment of silence. The true issue was in Veor's mind, that the pressures built up, were the pressure to be relieved in some places, then the Storm wouldn't be as destructive. The more one tried to suppress the storm the worse it would be. Now Veor sensed that once again the world was heading towards a destructive storm, and he felt, deep down, that he would have a part to play in it, be that part hero or villain, he did not know.

Du Fell Edoc'sil was beautiful, it was created out of marble, and gold. Large pillars rose to meet arching boat-like roofs, it was in a way as if the city had been built to mirror the greater parts of each culture's styles. Beyond this the great Dragon Home lacked any clear way up if one was not a rider, the only entrance was on wing. There were great rooms carved into the mountain, covered by floodgates, a place for the dragons to rest, and land. Tall white walls grew up around the city, small round towers appeared every so often to defend the place from any assailants.

The place did not go close to rivaling the Vroengard of old, but it was still beautiful and magnificent beyond compare in modern times.

A Large lake of azure water sat on a cliff, forged from this were two waterfalls that ran down the mountainside to the bottom of the city, where once again the two separate waterfalls converged into a large clear pool.

The smaller lake at the bottom of the city seemed to provide water for swimming in, while the lake at the city top provided drinking water.

Myrker watched as the dragons danced in the fading sunlight, their scales shining like the most beautiful of jewels, as they spun and twirled through the sky chasing after each other, below riders and some non-riders waited in the city, sparing or talking. Some had rider swords, others lacked weapons entirely, there was a middle group who held weapons of different types and sizes, but still lacked the blade's of the riders.

Two large dragons came out of the air next to Myrker, he watched the purple and gold dragon fly by him at his side, the two riders were both non-human, one was an urgal, whose horns were curling into the air, his features were sharper though, and his eyes were dark brown. The other rider was a dwarf, he had a darkly colored beard and piercing grey eyes. The riders signalled for Umaroth and Myrker to head towards the fortress far below, specifically to the room that Myrker presumed was a landing ground and home for the dragons.

Torr and Soha rode quickly along the mountain pass, the thin and winding roads covered in snow, the two wore black cloaks over their garments in hopes of keeping themselves warm. The winds blew hard and fast making it hard to hear, the two lay flat to the back of their horses, surrounded by craggy cliffs of stone. Soha pulled the cowl of her cloak up over her head once again, her clothing was soaked through, and cold frost covered it, the same was true of Torr's clothing.

The winter's cold weather forced the two to slow their pace, as they headed through the mountains. Soha's breath turned to mist as they rode, Torr seemed more comfortable for no clear reason. As the wind shifted it became even harder to hear the world around them, ice covered the stone rode, making the horses slip every so often. Soha looked over at Torr, her expression filled with worry, the storm had only been getting worse, and she wasn't sure they could get through it without losing the horses, if not their own lives.

Veor sat in the room, the warm fire spreading light across the room, Veor himself had become comfortable, his clothes were drying off thanks to the fire, and he himself didn't really mind the cold weather. The wagon driver had rested the horses, and Veor had brought the eggs into the room, setting them down at the table. The hooded man entered the room, his red-brown eyes were more clear this time, cutting through the empty tavern. The man was well dressed this time, he wore once more a dark cloak, but beneath that he was in a darkly colored tunic with some silver-engravings.

"I half expected you to have died in the attempt." The man's words were softly spoken, but it seemed to Veor that he had wits as sharp as a rider's blade.

"Now if I did that I wouldn't get payed, would I? I brought you two eggs." Veor said, he knew the man had sworn an oath in the ancient language, but still there was something about the man that seemed untrustworthy. _I've met untrustworthy people before, but this is different. Everyone else was just a normal person he feels like more than that, as if to him all of this is just a game._

"You lost the third egg then." The man said calmly, his eyes flitted to Veor's sword, and then to the eggs.

"There was a problem that was unexpected, two members of the Varda-Gramarye caught up with us, found the barn I was hiding in, I used my magic to protect two of the eggs, but the third was lost." Veor lied, his eyes remained still, he himself remained calm, sitting up straight, his hands were laced, his elbows rested on the table.

"I see. Very well, I shall sell the eggs, and I will alert you when the wealth can be given to you." The man said his face hidden by the shadows once more.

"I suppose that will have to do. One last question though, what is your name?" Veor said, his interest had been peaked by the odd man, who seemed to Veor, neither Elf, Man, nor any other creature Veor knew of.

"My name. Very well, I am Wyrda." The man said coolly, the name was clearly fake, Veor knew its meaning, the importance of the name was clear, as was his meaning by saying it.

"An interesting name to have to be sure." Veor replied, the man's comment was bold. It was in fact almost a claim to godhood, the word Wyrda was from the ancient language, it's meaning in that tongue was Fate, a meaning that made it extremely clear that the man both knew the Ancient Language, and that he considered everything going on to be some kind of game.

"Now, I am curious. When exactly did the dragon hatch?" The man said smiling politely as he leaned back in his chair.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'm sure you don't. Now, where is it."

"Like I said, I don't know what you mean."

The man sighed, quietly, his red eyes flashed with frustration, "I think you do, you should cover the mark better. The gedwëy ignasia is the mark of the riders. I would expect something better from you Vëor."

Veor move back, shocked at the use of his real name. A name he hadn't heard for centuries, it was not his True Name, no that was something he had kept hidden deep within the darker recesses of his mind, Vëor was the name was his name at birth a name given to him. He had used it for a while, but it was hard for the less educated to spell, he had thought to switch it to 'Veyar' but after a fight a young fool, with an awful memory had referred to him as Veor, the name had stuck. He found it to work just as well as any other name and used it more often. "Fine, she's waiting outside to burst in and begin to tear you apart."

The man turned to the window, Veor smiled leaping backwards, he landed on his feet and began to run towards the door. He felt the fear in the dragon's mind, he reached out trying to reassure her that she would be fine, but he felt the falseness in his reassurances.

As he ran he swore, he could see Wyrda just standing there, with a smug grin on his face, as if everything so far was just a game, as if Veor was his pawn in a long drawn out game Veor wouldn't understand.

The horse Veor grabbed from the stables was frightened as they rode away, Veor did his best to reassure it that he was a friend. He saw the dark blue shape running through the trees by his side. They rode as quickly as they could for as long as they could, through the forests to the edge of the spine, there they set up a camp and rested. Veor rested against the dark blue dragon, her scales were rough, and uncomfortable, but they provided great warmth. The dark clouds above seemed to let loose a blizzard on them, as if to wipe them from the earth. He had chosen a place with enough trees to keep the storm from causing too much damage to the horse, him, or the dragon.

Myrker's training was easy enough to him, simple tasks like moving stones, and fighting others with his blade. He was much faster and stronger than he had remembered, but he was fighting elves, and other riders, making the task just as hard despite his skill with the blade. He found he had many bruises on him when he went to his room, still it was good to be among others who were just as skilled with a blade as him. _Umaroth._

 _Yes, Myrker._

 _Many of these people are fully trained, why do they remain here instead of going out into the world to insure justice, and order._

 _Perhaps there is a greater plan. Perhaps Eragon fears for them. I would wait to oversee these events._

 _How can I wait, there are riders here who aren't anything, people who do not belong among the riders, but against them. Villains so vile that they can't be respected at all._

 _I cannot tell you anymore Myrker, things are how they are. Unless you are ready to change these things I suggest you accept them._

Myker fell silent, _Am I ready? Could I really change anything here,_ He asked himself as he lay awake on his bed, _No, not yet, but soon. Very soon._ He decided as he began to drift off into sleep.

Torr and Soha sheltered in a small cavern, they had lit a fire in the center, and were well sheltered from the snow. Soha sat against the wall, she had removed the cold wet cloak, and had placed a blanket over herself. Torr simply sat near the fire. He let out a small laugh, "This was an awful idea wasn't it."

"That summarizes it, very very briefly."

"I guess we get to sit in a cave then, hoping the snow stops before we starve."

"I guess we do."

"Please say something sarcastic."

"So now you want me to be sarcastic?" Soha said smiling as she looked up at Torr.

"Well, the other option is that you're dying so, yes I would."

"I'll be fine. I just need sleep, and not to freeze." Soha said, resting her head against the cavern's wall. She brought the blanket close around her, trying to find warmth in the cold. The shadows seemed to fade away as Torr watched her fall asleep, he smiled as he leaned back against the wall. His skin was cold, as were his clothes, numbingly cold, but still, it wasn't such a bad night. Maybe if they were lucky the storm might even clear up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Review. Please. I'm basing the way I write future stuff off your reviews, this story might be complete, but that doesn't mean I won't base the next story off your advice.**

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Chapter Seven: Crossroads

Veor looked up at the sky above him, the clouds were beginning to clear. The dark blue dragon next to him was about his size. As he rested his head against her rough scales he breathed out. He was not a dragon rider, nor could he ever truly go down that path. He was the thief, the cut-throat, the enforcer, all of these were in his nature, he was no hero.

 _No,_ he thought, _I'm not a hero, I'm not a villain either though. Who am I? I am the outcast, the broken, the walker in the dark. I am what I have been and will choose to be. Perhaps someday, perhaps someday that might be a rider, but for today, for today I am just Veor._

The knowledge of his true name had helped him dearly in his confusion. His dragon was not safe, and for whatever reason he would do everything he could to protect her. He understood ever so briefly his role, he was not a hero, but he was not the villain. _Perhaps,_ he thought _I will be the one to do what I must when the time comes._

Myrker blocked his opponent's sword sending them stumbling back. He had risen quickly in his ability to duel, ranking right below the elves, who he was told he had no chance of beating. He had also gained an extremely complex and powerful mastery over the ancient language, and had risen quickly in that aspect of his training as well. In fact his noble birth had aided his progress in every way he could imagine, from his ability to study ancient texts, to his knowledge of strategy and tracking, due to his seemingly superior education he was ranked constantly either among the elves, or right behind them.

He was glad for it as well. Many of the older riders had taken notice of him, allowing him to gain sway over some of them, others thought him too arrogant, it did not matter to him much.

He had begun to wonder his purpose. He wasn't willing to sit around as many of the other students seemed to be, in fact to him it seemed that he was the only one there who truly wished to fight. Large portions of this he blamed on Eragon, it seemed in a way that the riders were far too willing to allow the Varda-Gramarye to do their duty, as if Eragon's fear of the ruin that could be unleashed were he to return would appear if there were to many dragon riders as well.

 _If so let it be, perhaps then the riders might return in force._

 _Think before you speak Myrker._

 _I was thinking, or had you forgotten?_

 _I mean this, you hold too much sway, if we are to rebel then let it be so, but think this through carefully, if this ends badly the only victory shall be for those who wish the riders gone._

Myrker sighed, Umaroth was right, and Myrker did know it. He could easily command his forces against those loyal to Eragon, but in doing so in victory or defeat he would face too many losses to take control in the way he wanted.

So he would wait and plan, if it came to it he would strike, and he would strike deeply, and swiftly, cutting apart the riders before they could respond.

Torr and Soha looked over the tavern, a couple chairs were knocked over, horse tracks lead to the tavern, and away from it, a fire had been lit, but it had been cold for a number of days.

"Well, he was here, and I think he lost the eggs here as well." Torr said, after looking over everything he knew.

"Why do you presume that?" Soha said, returning from a stable where she had found a battered down stall and a couple piles of hay.

"Look at the floor, two sets of boots entered, presumably the thief and the buyer. So the two sat down at that table, where the chair is knocked over, a couple feet away the footsteps leading our appear, and those are great strides, he was running. Wagon tracks less here with two horses, and a third horse ride alone from a different direction. Well the wagon leads away, but in the direction the lone horse came, and the line horse leads elsewhere, beyond that the wagon tracks leading here were lighter than those leaving."

"So you're saying the elf ran, but didn't take the eggs."

"Correct. He would need the wagon to hold both eggs, based off the average size of a horse's saddlebags, and this horse didn't seem under much strain either here or leaving. I think whoever hired him learned that he had hatched an egg, and grew angry, thus the hasty departure."

"So we follow which set of tracks?"

"Do we want the eggs or the thief?"

"As of right now? The thief, he has a dragon now, that makes him one of the most dangerous threats we could face."

"So we follow the lone horse."

The two exited the tavern, the winter's winds had died down, and the sun lot the sky once more, the air was still chilly however, and frost covered the ride, and the leaves of the trees. The two climbed onto the backs of their horses and began again, traveling at full pace after the lone rider.

Veor sat in the snow his hand on his dragon's head. He liked it out in the woods, there was no one to bother him, he could look into the minds of those around him without seeing only their darkness. He felt the sunlight shift the shadows of the trees in a strange manner, he breathed in again, trying to focus, it was about time he learned to accept the calm, the storm was boiling, he knew that, he felt it, but he could do nothing to stop it, whatever the wyrd had chosen it had chosen, he was a single being, a leaf in the gale, he would fall wherever he had to, and he would hope that he would survive.

The cold wind's made his hands feel numb, and his cloak did little to protect him. The horses seemed afraid of the shadows in the trees, and he understood why. Wolves dwelled out in forests, they hunted in packs and would willingly kill a horse for food. The unsettling cold and darkness in the trees played into a growing fear Veor had, every time he moved he saw in the corner of his eye Wyrda standing there, smiling, his thin lips spread across his pale skin, and his eyes blazing as red as blood.

 _Perhaps I've gone insane,_ he thought as he sat there in the cold, rubbing his hands together, _or perhaps, for the first time ever, I am genuinely afraid, no, not the first time. Perhaps the last though._

 _Vë_ _or_

 _Who thought that? I can tell you it wasn't me._

The dragon looked up at Veor, her blue eyes glowing like starlight, her scales shining like Gems. The dragon titled it's head to one side.

 _Vë_ _or_

 _I see you learned to talk, anyway I'm Veor, I haven't used that other name for ages._

 _Veor._

 _See, now you're getting it._

 _Veor._

 _Ok dragon. If you like my name so much perhaps you'd like one of your own. Lenora, not that I know much about her, but you are a female dragon, and so the name can belong to you._

 _Lenora._

 _Yes, that was the name I said._

 _Yes._

 _Oh good you can actually talk._

 _Of course I can._

Veor smiled and rested his hand once more on Lenora's head, with a smile he drifted back into sleep.

Myrker was waiting to meet Eragon, an honor that very few riders had, being among the best of the human riders he was offered a chance to meet him, and it was a chance he wouldn't ignore. The sound of thunder tore through the air, or at the least Myrker had thought it to be thunder, it soon became clear that it was not, the great dragon whose scales shone like polished gems, spread her mighty wings as she flew towards them. Myrker thought her to be the largest being he had ever seen, and then he realized how likely that was, she was over a hundred years old and dragons kept growing for the entirety of their life.

Myrker sat still upon Umaroth's back watching as Eragon climbed down from Saphira's back, his elf-like features prominent and strange for one who seemed, while elf-like, so human.

 _This is why I gave you words of caution, that is who you would fight were you to rebel. Do you think you could defeat him, or that I could defeat Saphira._

 _No, not alone._

Eragon began to speak, he spoke with something richly human, not with the accent of the elves, his accent also reflected his home, Carvahall. He spoke like a farmer's child would, which Myrker found strange, he found deep within his mind he expected Eragon to speak like an aristocrat, instead he found the voice of one who was humble.

"Welcome, I have looked upon you and decided you to be the best of the riders here, so I offer you now, your blades, choose your blade wisely, then you may go to Rhunön, in the Du Weldenvarden, and she shall forge the blade to fit you better.

"Before that time though I wish to warn you, you may feel that magic and your blade are all you need. That pride will be a great weakness, we are not gods, a blade can still slay you, a spell can still end your life. Remember this, and also remember that you are the servants of the people, not their rulers, nor their masters. Do not use your power for yourself, that is the path of the Forsworn, and it is why they were all slain. Now, find your weapons, for as riders you shall need them."

Myrker smiled, looking through the lined up blades of white hue, those were his options for a blade, he continued to look through the blades until he found a blade of a bleak white color, the gem at the bottom of the blade was clear, and it fit into his hand perfectly. He lifted it, swinging it in a wide arc he smiled. _It will do, the balance is right, it fits in my hand, and it is the color of your scales Umaroth._

 _Then take it, for every rider needs a blade._

"A fine sword indeed, Islingr, the blade of Vrael." Eragon said, as he approached.

"I am honored to hold such a blade. I am also honored that you approve Shadeslayer." Myrker replied, bowing his head slightly when he saw Eragon standing behind him.

"You have shone yourself adept enough to hold such a weapon, and I think that you have a great future, though whether it is for better or for worse I cannot tell."

"Please, explain your meaning."

"I meant no disrespect to you Myrker, you are young and proud, I simply wish to warn you that your pride could be your downfall, do not let it guide your actions, or cloud your judgement, such is the flaw in many who were destined for greatness."

"I understand now Shadeslayer. I apologize for my abruptness. I shall try and let logic guide me, and not my pride."

"Good, you have great possibilities, I have seen your training, you are a master of the blade, and I have also heard tell that you are extremely powerful with magic. Were you to have ears more sharp, I might think you to be of elven blood."

"I am honored to have caught your notice, you advised me to head to Rhunön so the blade might be reforged to better fit my style of fighting."

"That is a long journey you and some of the others shall make, when you arrive Arya, shall help you finish any training I could not give you."

"When do we leave?"

"You have the rest of today to prepare, you can leave tomorrow morning."

"Very well Shadeslayer, I should prepare for my departure."

Myrker nodded, and sheathed the sword, attaching it to his belt, he once again bowed his head before turning away, smiling he climbed onto Umaroth. He noticed the gem at the bottom and reached for it with magic, there was very little energy inside, but he could feel the potential in it, he quickly seeped a little bit of his energy into the blade.

Torr and Soha rode quickly across the trail, they had begun to lose the trail of the single horse, and as they rode they found it was harder and harder to see the trail. There was no clear way to pick the trail up.

"We've lost him."

"Well, he's smart, we can give him that." Soha said angrily.

"Fine. So where would he go, he's a thief with a dragon, where would he hide."

"Would he hide? I mean if you've just stolen a dragon egg, and are a fully trained elf already, well you make your move don't you."

"Fair point. So, he wouldn't be hiding, he'd be striking. Oh gods he's going to Fell Edoc'sil."

"I still have a map, but the quickest route that we could survive would still take months."

"I go over the Hadrac then."

"It's official you've gone insane. And you mean we go over the Hadrac."

"No, I let you come this far, but a trip over the Hadrac is too deadly, I'm unimportant, if I die the world keeps spinning, if you die the world will fall into chaos. Anyway I can draw the water from the earth, I just need to avoid the sun, also I'm crossing in the winter, I can survive that much more easily."

"I'm going with you, you half-wit. You need me. Now, we need to move fast if he switched to dragon back this might be the only way to catch him."

"I can't let-" Torr began.

"You can, and will. Also I have the map to Fell Edoc'sil."

Torr and Soha began to ride at their fastest pace towards the Hadrac, in a vaguely South Eastern direction. Torr looked over worriedly at Soha.


End file.
